My Heart To The Wind
by Hessarial
Summary: A young girl discovers herself, her passion, love of writing and her other half whilst on a train from San Francisco to NYC. F/F slash, Marilyn Monroe /Kate Beckinsale. Rated M for future explicitness.


_While at my best friends house over the weekend, this random musing came to me. I think it is quite silly, tell me what you make of it._

_So we sat down together in the living room with a bag of the finest, all natural green (well, orange and blue in actuality, maybe a little green in there.) like we do every weekend, started to relax and flipped on the TV. Because of our "heightened state of being" (insert comical laugh here) we didn't mind watching Some Like It Hot, and in the scene with Merylin Monroe chipping the ice block and berating her past life, three things hit me._

_1. She was a dammed good fucking actress, and I had just fallen in love with her. (Watch the movie, you'll know what I mean.)  
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_2. I was really, really high._

_3. A story about a young girl that was tired of life and wanted to get away and chase her dreams, finding love along the way._

_Like I have said in afore mention, I think it is corny, and quite silly (again, really high when it hit me.)_

_Tell me what you think._

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_**By writing this work of fiction I hereby lay absolutely no claim to the content, media, or IP it is based on, neither have I, nor will receive any monetary profit from it in any way.**_

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**Ps. If Kate Beckinsale, Robert Downy Jr. or any other actors/actresses who's names and likenesses are used herein wish to prosecute me for such, my name and address may be obtained by emailing myself at; hessarial **

Chapter 1: Who Am I?

The sun was soft and warm as its rays shown down through my bedroom window, the first bit of sun I've seen in ages in this miserable place. I don't like it here, I never have. Ever since mother and father moved from Florida for his work as an investor and businessman I've felt out of place.

I remember much of Miami, even though we moved when I was only six years old. I remember sunny days with mother, about the streets and markets. Taking drives on Sunday together, when father was home for his one day a week with his girls.

I loved the Florida sun, oh I did. But no matter how much of it I saw, my skin retained its deathly paleness. Mother told me it was pretty and becoming of a young lady, I suppose she was right. It never seemed so though, because no matter the boy they never saw past my breasts it seemed.

I always wanted to be married to a gentleman, a man of character and class. Life is unpredictable though, and awful in the most painful ways, as I had found out.

Oh I wish I could escape this place and go somewhere new, even to travel would be lovely. Every day bores me with nothing to do, I feel as if I am searching for something, some part of myself even. I want love, to be loved and to love in return, I grew up reading stories of girls that met a brave handsome man in the most adventurous ways, even my mother and father had a fairytale-like courting. I want to be swept off my feet, to fly away to another life, be someone else. If only

My name is Merylin, Merylin Monroe I wish I were someone else. Sad angry blue depression sometimes hurts like a hot knife under my skin.

I'm five feet six inches tall. My wavy blonde chin length hair has a mind of its own it seems, I thought as I sighed to myself and slowly started to get out of bed. I wished I could just lay there in the sun and dream the day away, but soon enough the cold mid-fall clouds would begin their decent on me.

'Ungh I'm a mess.' I thought to myself, taking in my appearance in the mirror. Pearly hair in a tangled, bed swept state and dark-ish circles under my eyes from another restless night. I always tried to look my best, and somewhat prided myself in it to a point. It was easier that way, to keep up an appearance and not let anyone know what actually happens inside, then I didn't have to let anyone else in to make it worse. Inside I just wish I could fly away, find a way to forget the past and move on.

It was silly honestly, I can't actually believe I thought it would last after only five months, even for a while. That was three years ago, three painful years for me. Three years of scars, both emotional and physical, and I was tired of it. Tired of everything, tired of every day in life being a struggle inside.

I'm twenty years old now, and believe it or not, have yet to take a step out on my own. I still live with my parents, in their (small) estate on the fringes of San Francisco. I was scared in a way, to be out, away from home and everything I knew, on my own.

Standing there I started to realize how sore I was from the awkward way I fell asleep. A hot shower is the perfect cure for this! I slipped out of my nightdress and turned on the water, letting out a soft sigh as I stepped under it and felt it chase away the knots and aches under my skin.

Stepping out only after my fingers started to wrinkle from the water, I took a towel and set about my business. I loved my hair, however swept-away it looked I think it still managed to frame my face perfectly, a gift I can thank my mother for as she has the same pearly blonde hair. Her long hair was even more beautiful I thought, though she wears hers in a tight bun, old fashioned as she is. I share a lot with her, she is my best friend and someone I know loves me without question. We enjoy watching the stars in our favorite movies, a lot of which we share, and reading classics, fiction and non-fiction. We share a fascination with Tolkien, I love The Hobbit, and hear he is soon to print a new work!

Books are my escape from this world, they are how I live and get through every day of my life, and my dream has always been to be a writer. I enjoy scribbling short stories and trying to form new ideas. I wish I could live in a big city and write for a publisher, live a happy life alone, or with another if I ever find the part of me that was missing so badly.

Father was having a dinner tonight, a formal party with his colleagues and of course mother and I were to attend. I didn't mind social gatherings so much, I loved to gaily mingle with the crowd and have fun, I never made good friends, but still it was a change, a release for me in a way.

No, it was the men at gatherings like this that I hated.

I'm pretty and I know it, but you would never know I did. I guess I just give off the vibe of a blonde ditz to all the boys because they only ever seem to want one thing from me, and I'll never give it to them. I've been there, and done that. It only ever ends with a cold sadness that you can't seem to escape because no matter how much you crave someone's love even though you know they are using you it will never make it any easier or less painful when there's nothing left but an empty bottle and empty bed, and… no love.

They fawned over me as if I were a prize to win, a rapt attentive audience to their every whim. Ungh, it's so disgusting the way they stare at me. As if I don't know they are. It is as if I am the only real person sometimes, in a world of hollow shells.

I just ignore them for the most part, I don't care for them, any of them. They are egotistically insane and rich to a point where money was is like water, with not a care in the world.

I will never be like them or their women I told myself, tactless blonde beauties that were vainer than the men they slept with. I'm not smart, but I'm smart enough to know that that was a life I could never love.

It was just turning to late afternoon and I found myself restless, wanting to go out. Mother was busy with the maids preparing for the evening, and Father was working as always in the city.

We had a fairly sized garage, just off the main hall and sitting in the back near the garden and courtyard. When I was eighteen my parents had bought me a car, and allowed me an account and money of my own.

I left my bedroom, the room of the house I spent the most time in, after getting ready and walked down the halls to the garage. The previously amiable sun had been dissipated almost completely by fresh clouds, and it made me feel rather sad as the chilled air met my face.

I had chosen a long, slightly flared black dress that covered me well and hung easily on my body, with lace around the cuffs and collar. It was my favorite dress, a present to myself this last Christmas from a store called Beautiful and Vain; I very rarely bought anything so expensive.

I did not care to wear a hat most if the time, I felt that it was too constricting and would rather let my hair free, much to my mother's displeasure. She thought it unbecoming of a young lady to present herself out and about in such a way. I always simply sighed and told her it felt awful to wear a headdress. I would rather feel the fresh air on my face and hair, even in the chill of this season.

Walking down to the small line of cars, I opened the door to my own Ford.

Starting the purring engine, I pulled it out of the garage and tried to enjoy the short drive to the city, my destination being my favorite book store where I sometimes spent hours, reading the day away.

It was a quiet drive, the lasts bird's calls having already vanished with the warmth as the leaves turned. I liked this area of the city very much, it felt like a small town but at the same time just large enough to almost make me fall in love with it. Almost, oh, if only the sun shone more and the days were warmer.

I dreamt of the city, skyscrapers, newspapers, clubs and taxi's that would take you anywhere. I was caught up in a dream like always, but just like always I realized it and almost laughed at myself. Could I really make it on my own? My heart fluttered a little at the thought of leaving this place behind. Leave the memories, people and towns. To say goodbye to home…

According to mother and father I was going to find a man, settle down and that would be that. None of this silly big city or writing nonsense for them. They had had my life planned out for me since before I can remember and it was what hurt the most sometimes. It was either stay and let life pass me by or leave, but how ever would I do that?

There was so much I wanted to do before I settled down, so many dreams I wanted to chase if only I had the courage.

'Christmas already?' I though absentmindedly, eyeing the early décor that clung to a few people's homes.

"But it's only September." I sighed, imagining the snow that was to come. I didn't mind snow, it was just alright. I did like to think of how it would look in Miami, snow everywhere painting the city white. 'Well it wouldn't be New York, but I suppose it would be lovely, even as out of place as it sounds.' I thought, giggling to myself.

I felt at ease somewhat when I went out, though the thought of the formal occasion to come almost made me want to run away then and there. But I knew it would come then go, just as everything did.

As I pulled up to the side of the bustling San Francisco street I started to notice the first few snowflakes of the day, mingling their way down and dancing in the store's lights and street lamps. I really liked this area, or at least this time of year, it always looked so pretty in the way you think of seeing in the silver screen pictures. I could almost imagine a detective or investigator walking down the sidewalk in his long black coat, pondering the latest turn of events in his case, or a beautiful young couple holding hands and wanting nothing more than each other's company.

Ow! That hurts. The cold metal of the car almost felt like it was burning my fingers as I stepped out and closed the door behind me, turning to walk a block down to my favorite place to escape.


End file.
